“The Other Night”




Today’s post is found on MidLife Collage. My short vignette is in this week’s contest and you could pop over there, leave a comment, and hit the FB like option to help me win $100 shmacks! With that kind of cashflow, I might just have to buy hubby some roses! :) And just think, you might have missed voting for American Idol, but you can still vote for me! :)

And before you read it, I want you to know that I really thought about this story before I put it out there. During this season of Valentine’s, when all you hear and see are kisses and cuddles, roses and chocolate, life still happens. Lovers fight. Marriage is not easy. And relationships are perhaps more challenging than ever if they want to thrive.

The actual event the story describes happened a year ago. So for the record, we are so over it. And chances are, hubs might not even remember it. Wish I could say it was the first and last bad fight we ever had, but then my love story would be a fairy tale. And truth be told, it’s so much better than any fairy tale I’ve ever read. Simply because tested love produces real love. And I prefer the real deal over the fluff stuff any day. And every day.

Happy reading and huge cyber hugs for voting for me!! :)


The Dirty Dancing of Marriage

Waking up at Gunstock Moutain Resort in New Hampshire for our first full day of vacation, all I can think is, where is the coffee? The 11:30PM arrival the night before which involved some not-so-nice words exchanged while the GPS evaded us, seasoned the RV air with the perfect ingredients for sweet dreams. Not. I went to bed, exhausted from packing the day before and my heart sinking for the weeks that lie ahead. If this is how we’re starting our vacation, angry and miscommunicating, I just want to quit now. Hide under the covers and wake up when it’s time to go home. That’s how I think when I feel desperate. Inadequate. Hopeless. And just genuinely messed up. 

It was just a fight over directions, I try to convince myself. But under ever petty argument lies a deeper issue. When you’ve been married for more than a decade, you know each other too well to know when something is just a tif or a tip. As in the tip of the iceberg of abandoned issues. I tell him he doesn’t trust me. He tells me I don’t respect him. Tempers flare. Words fly. And in the small confines of the RV, every sound is heard. By everyone.  Continue reading